❝𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲?❞
❝𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦.❞
𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥 had a few, perhaps a little or more than a palm of qualms in his life. First up was the whole "The Boy-Who-Lived" shenanigans, then there was an ungodly am...
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XXIII. FREEDOM: THE SYNONYM FOR EXILE
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"Second, third, and hundredth chances
Balancin' on breaking branches"
IT WAS BIZARRE HOW IN such a short amount of time, so many things could change. Not once in her life had she imagined that she would find herself under the patronage of the great (pretty weird) Albus Dumbledore and the so-called murderer Sirius Black... or even thought of being stuck in a house that apparently belonged to the great House of Black, which was also turned into a headquarters for an organisation?
Honestly, it was all simply jumbled up together. Marjorie didn't know how to reel this in — she didn't know how to even reel any of this in.
How did she get herself into such a situation? What happened to her brother? Dumbledore didn't seem all that perturbed about her brother, so Perseus would surely be fetching her sooner or later, right? Honestly, all of this was truly playing with her mind and she had never been so tempted to just bash her head against something this badly. But here she was... in this old, mouldy house, unknowing of what to do else.
The place was clearly inhabitant by more than a wanted mass murderer who was currently brewing strawberry tea down at the kitchen — wherever that was anyway. Marjorie didn;t know the layout of the archaic home as much as she didn't know the layout of her own manor that she ran away from. But she digressed, for there was another thing that kept her mind pondering; Sirius Black was nothing like how she had heard him to be. He didn't look all that mad.
Well, he somewhat technically did looked a bit mad. But granted, he also looked like a vagabond.
Again, Marjorie digressed.
He didn't look all that much of a dishonest person... and frankly, as untrustworthy as she should be of him, he seemed like he sympathised with her. Marjorie wasn't sure how to pinpoint it, but he looked like he was reminded of something... like he saw something in her, which most definitely bothered her.
Needless to say, though vagrant and all and all looking like a jobless man who is stuck in his home all day, Sirius did somewhat had a decent choice of style.
The moment Marjorie had washed up, feeling somewhat refreshed that how she had been carrying herself for the past few hours — though it was unlikely that the bruises on her would heal — but she was already washed off dried blood, feeling more clean, Marjorie found a neat white dress. It had frills on it, but it wasn't something that she wasn't used to. Clearly, it belonged to the past inhabitants of the House of Black.
